SpUK Life
by notxherex
Summary: This will contain drabbles inspired by writing prompts on Tumblr. There may be one or two drabbles that are under the M-rating. Other than that, it's mostly rated T.
1. Beginning

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me.

All characters belong to Himaruya Hidekaz

* * *

" I don't hate you."

"Aren't you just a figment of my imagination; aren't you just telling me what I want to hear?"

"I could be, yes." Antonio cocks his head to the side, his eyes hiding everything he could be thinking and feeling in the oddly quiet moment between them. "So, what is it you want to do?"

"I want to kiss you."

Antonio smiles and mimics Arthur's movement by leaning in, their faces closer but not enough to even feel the other's breath before Arthur turns away, his body still leaned in to the other as if he were hesitant to both leave or stay.

"What am I doing?"

One of Antonio's arm snakes around Arthur's waist while the other reaches up to touch the Englishman's face, "what _are _you doing?" His voice comes out husky, quiet and it entices the other man to look back at him.

"I really want to kiss you." Arthur repeats as his hand moves to the Spaniard's cheek.

"Then do so."

Arthur's eyes flutter closed as he leans closer this time, lips almost touching with the other's before he speaks again, "we shouldn't be doing this."

"You want to."

Finally, the gap between them lessens into nothing and Arthur is softly, slowly pushed back onto the couch so that Antonio can be over him and take control just how like Arthur wants for once.

As innocent as the kiss is, Arthur immediately feels how having Antonio so close affects him. His body grows warm, his heart races from pure happiness. This is what he's wanted for so long.

Antonio pulls away from Arthur, giving his lips a small lick and smiles when the blonde looks up at him warmly through half-lidded eyes.

"_Te Amo._"

Arthur's sits up as his eyes shoot open. Confused, he looks around until realising he's in his bedroom. Alone as he should be.

Groaning, he tries to forget what he's just seen; tries to deny that his heart was still racing and somewhat hurting from the dream. The stupid dream. It was stupid because he had even realised that Antonio wasn't real right from the beginning! It was stupid because there was no way Antonio would even come so close to him. It had been completely idiotic to have imagined such a sweet kiss between him and the man who hated him.

But Arthur knew that his heart had finally forced onto him the knowledge of his feelings for the tan man with the wonderfully bright smile and olive-green eyes. The image of Antonio was still vivid in his mind, and the kiss that had never existed was still vividly felt on his lips and made them tingle.

"Oh God, I love him."

That moment, was the beginning of all the chaos that could lead Arthur to eternal happiness.

That was, if it didn't destroy him first.

* * *

AN: Oh gosh, I love writing SpUK; I enjoy it so much.

Doing the Drabble a Day challenge from Tumblr!

Thought, it might not be updated once a day because I'm going to the beach in three days, so excited!

Also, if you follow Loving a Lover, no worries I'm still writing that.

Have a good night/day!


	2. Accusation

**I want to thank the people who reviewed, favourited, and followed this. Remember this is a collection of different drabbles. But should there be interest on any of them, I might just continue it later on. **

* * *

"You do. You have. You will." The tan man begin to tease the paler one, a smile on his face while the other wore his signature frown.

"I don't. I have never, and I will never-" Arthur's half-angry denial was interrupted by Antonio pushing him against the wall and caging him in by placing a hand on either side of him.

"I guess I was right about my suspicion." The Spaniard sighs and all trace of a playful, teasing man is gone only to be replaced by a betrayed gleam in his eye.

"Suspicion?" Arthur can barely voice out since the feeling of despair and guilt was beginning to take over him. It wasn't like he really didn't feel how Antonio had been teasing him not even a second before; he was simply embarrassed of voicing such feelings. But Antonio knew the truth.

Right?

Then again, this wasn't the first time they headed in this direction.

"I found it weird that you would be spending time with Francis." Antonio leans in, eyebrows furrowing to emphasis his anger even more, and the blonde shivers at the intensity once he feels his boyfriend's breath on his face. "You always said you hated him before," he pauses as he moves a hand to Arthur's cheek and runs it down to his neck, fingers feel the pulse under the pale expanse of skin. "But lately, he seems to be your best friend instead of mine. _He_ seems to be the one that now holds_ your_ heart."

Arthur resists the urge to tell Antonio that he was wrong, that he didn't feel anything for the bloody Frenchman or anyone that wasn't the Spaniard in front of him. But he was tired of the accusation that shone in Antonio's eyes from time to time.

So instead, Arthur straightens up and pushes Antonio away-easily accomplishing it because he never pushed him away before.

The anger leave's the brunette for a minute in favor of showing shock but it goes right back to the fierce anger that wasn't normal of this certain man, but it sure was effective when it was used in any other case that didn't involve Arthur.

Arthur simply knew Antonio too well, and he didn't shy away from anything that was Antonio. Arthur loved him as he was and loved every side of him.

Well, except for the over the top jealousy.

"Francis, is it?" Arthur looks to the side as he crosses his arms and nods before looking into Antonio's eyes, challenging. "Alright, yes."

As vague as the Englishman's answer is, Antonio takes it as a confirmation for his accusation and his anger flares up to the point that his hands form tight fists and his nails dig into his skin. He opens his mouth in order to talk, yell, do anything to show how betrayed he felt but Arthur interferes and raises a hand to Antonio's chest over his heart.

"I have your heart." Arthur speaks slowly, quietly capturing Antonio with the soft look in his eyes. "Right?"

Antonio nods, shoulders sagging as the anger is again replaced with a new emotion. His heart was Arthur's, and it hurt to find out Arthur's heart wasn't his.

"Then why don't I have your trust?" Arthur sighs as he breathes in to prepare himself even further and uses his free hand takes one of Antonio's to put it over his own chest over his own heart. "I promise you, you have my heart. You were right. I have loved you. I do love you. I will always love you."

Antonio fully relaxes and hugs Arthur who hugs him back. "I wish you'd say you loved me more often." He whispers before into the other's ear kissing the side of his head.

"And I wish you'd stop accusing me of not loving you."

* * *

AN: Thank you for reading! Sorry if it's so lame but it's just a drabble and I'm stuck at the hotel bored :I


	3. Restless

_Bounce. _

Antonio groans as he, once again, is startled from his sleep.

_Bounce._

"Arthur, you're not always fun to be around with but I'd think that you'd be a whole lot better when it's time to sleep because, you know, _you'd be asleep._" Antonio half growls out before the bed moves again as Arthur turns to his side.

"I can't help it." He half whines, "I want to sleep but this is a _water_ bed."

_Bounce._

This time, Antonio turns on his side and faces the pale man who seemed to glow from the moonlight coming in through the window. "Yes, yes it is. Did you just realise it?"

A sigh answers his question before a nostalgic mood claims the atmosphere in the guest bedroom. "It makes me restless, as if I was back out in the ocean with the waves rocking my ship."

The vision of Arthur clad in his old pirate uniform enters Antonio's mind making him swing a leg over Arthur's and pulling himself up to straddle the blonde's hips. "You were restless in bed a lot back then." He leans down, heatedly kissing the Briton's neck. "I know the remedy."

"On a water bed?" Arthur moans in delight and chuckles in bewilderment. Was the Spaniard serious?

"Come on," Antonio smirks, palming at Arthur's crotch, "I'm getting restless."

* * *

AN: This one is crap. Let's hope the rest are so much better.

I totes just bullshitted this. I'm so tired from learning how to swim today.


	4. Snowflake

"Did you know that no two snowflakes are alike?"

Arthur watches Antonio stick his hand out the open window to catch falling snow in the palm of his hand and scoffs at his friend's question. "Of course they're alike; they're made of frozen water."

Antonio chuckles, sticking his now wet hand in to dry on his shirt and turns to Arthur. "Come here." He beckons with his command and a wave of the hand. Once Arthur is at his side, Antonio wraps an arm around his shoulder and turns them to look outside. "All the snow you see is made up of many many snowflakes. I couldn't guess how many. It's just like our world."

Arthur becomes hyper-aware of the other man's tightening hold on him and removes his eyes from the blanket of white to look at the Spaniard who was already watching him. "No two snowflakes have the same pattern just like no two people are the same in every way." Before the Briton can say anything about twins and how there were cases of separated ones having the same lives, Antonio leans his forehead against his. "There's nobody like you, Arthur."

Arthur watches the other closing his eyes and his own close half-way; he looks over Antonio's eyelids, nose, and- finally- his lips. The soft looking lips he'd thought about kissing once or twice in the last month. Just as he leans in to finally do as he wished, the Spaniard startles him by pulling away, grinning, and pulling at his cheeks.

"You're my special snowflake!"


	5. Haze

"England!" The worry and anxiety barely concealed in the voice that barely reaches him is clear through the haze that is England's mind and reality. "England, can you hear me?"

Opening his eyes, the blonde Englishman realises that; not only was his unconsciousness in a mess, so was the world around him. It takes another ten seconds and the repeating calling of his country name before he remembers the war.

A war that had started because the world's governments could no longer control their people. The same people that became aware of how corrupted the world really was; the people who wanted to start a better world for better generations and, hopefully, a peaceful world.

But all the countries knew-just as their people should have- that nothing could change without pain. England, America, France, Spain, all the nations of the world, knew that not everyone would survive this massive war between everyone which included their own people against them.

It had been years since the revolutions began; it had been months since Spain had seen the strength being sucked out of England by living in constant warfare; it had been hours since England had fallen out in the open air in the middle of London.

It would take Spain only two minutes to finally find England after the emerald green-eyed nation had woken up from having passed out because of the pain that was now gone because he was becoming numb to almost all feeling.

Almost because he could definitely feel the pain in his heart as he tried his best to see Spain through the haze that clouded his sight.

"I found you." The silhouette of the Spaniard is the only thing visible to England. "I finally found you."

"Spain." The dying man speaks, surprised he can even manage that much. Maybe he was still dreaming? "Survive this."

The brunette wipes at his tears before carefully lifting England up so that he can half-hold his limp body in his slightly muscular, tanned arms. "I will; I'll survive along by your side."

The silence that was becoming England was the most deafening thing Spain had ever had the misfortune to hear; it was worse than the bombs, worse then the yells of the people going against their own. It was a nightmare becoming his dark truth.

Finally, England speaks," no, you will live through this without me. You're strong; you'll live through this dim world that was once a beautiful Earth."

"England, please." Spain tightens his hold on the other, knowing that the nation was too far gone to feel anything anymore. He was soon bound to take his last breath. The next words spoken were words the Spaniard could only now wish he had said to comfort England.

But they weren't, because it was always England who knew how to soothe him.

"_You **will** see through this haze_."

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AN: I rather like this one!

Thank you, guest! Whoever you are, for reviewing all my drabbles. I'm very glad you enjoy them because I really enjoy writing SpUK!


	6. Flame

"Did you meet with him again?"

"Mmm." Antonio hums in confirmation as he puts his copy of Arthur's house key down on the kitchen counter before moving to get himself a glass of water. "What about you?"

"Yeah, I met with Francis an hour after you left to meet Lovino." Arthur takes the last drink of his tea. He sets it down only to stare at it; he couldn't look at Antonio now that they've both gone on dates with different men. What would be the point of looking into those eyes that he desperately wanted to love again? Their time was gone.

"Mm."

The house is quiet, the ticking of the clock in the livingroom is entirely too loud. Fortunately-or not- the men's thoughts keep the annoying ticking away from their conscious minds.

"I suppose this "new flame" idea is working out then?" Antonio sits beside Arthur at the table, fingering the rose petals that have fallen from their home in the vase. _I suppose my key will be staying here after today_. "There's something about Lovino that is quite interesting; such a fiery spirit."

Arthur looks up from his tea but not to look at the other, not yet.

"Francis is nice."_ Nothing about him reminds me of you. "_A bit on the romantic side, pensive when he sees couples. He talks a lot about how beautiful life is and that we should do whatever makes us happy while we're alive."

"The cliched thing." Antonio cuts in, finishing Arthur's sentence for him.

"Yes, the cliched thing."

"Well, it's not like it's easy to do so" Antonio looks up at Arthur who does the same after a few seconds of trying not to. They both understand their want to love each other as before but it was too late to fix the damage their time apart had done.

The flame was gone.

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AN: Sad drabble anyone?

Guest- *hugs back* I'm glad you enjoy them ;;


	7. Formal

The fact that Arthur had been staring at him from the moment he got on stage didn't go unnoticed by Antonio. In fact, it had been a little unnerving in the beginning. It wasn't until Gilbert brought up the fact that Lovino was smiling softly to his dance partner as charmingly as humanly possible while Ludwig was blushing red up to the tip of his ears that the Spaniard found himself forgetting the blonde singer on stage in favor of watching his little cousin and Gilbert's younger brother having fun on the night of their winter formal.

Soon, though, a hand is placed a little harder than necessary on the German's shoulder and an English accented voice sounds in Antonio's ear. He turns to face Gilbert and the man he knows as Arthur only because he's becoming more and more famous and he knows his best friend.

"What are you doing at a kid's formal, Gil?" Arthur grins at the pale man.

"I'm here to listen to you and your perfect music, _of course." _Gilbert replies sarcastically but laughs. "I'm here as a chaperon along with Antonio."

Antonio jumps a little as Arthur's eyes are redirected onto him, "Antonio, huh? I'm Arthur." The Englishman removes his hand off of his friend's shoulder and extends it for the Spaniard to take.

"I know." Antonio answers, looking curiously at the other as they shake hands. "Gilbert has mentioned you."

Arthur hums as if what he has been told doesn't matter-his eyes a fierce green that seems to pierce through Antonio's soul and the Spaniard is sure that only the two of them exist to the Englishman- and turns to Gilbert. "Got a fag?"

The laughter that passes past Gilbert's lips earns him a smack on the back of the head after his carton of cigarettes are taken away.

Antonio can't help but chuckle at Gilbert and watch Arthur walk away towards the exit that leads directly outside to the side of the building. His curiosity grows; he begins to wonder why Arthur had watched him throughout the show.

Should he follow?

Glancing around, he finds that Gilbert has left him in order to talk to Eliza, one of the teachers that worked at the school.

Well if Gilbert can socialize, so can he.

It was darker by the side of the building than in the front, but Antonio can clearly make out Arthur's silhouette not far from the door. The Briton's back is to him, but he still somehow knows it is Antonio who stands behind him.

"Want one?" Arthur hands Antonio the carton of cigarettes without so much as giving him a glance.

The Spaniard, though not really a smoker, wordlessly accepts one and stares at the stars in the sky just as Arthur has been doing since he walked outside.

Antonio is the first to speak after a while of a comfortable silence and eventually they spend the whole night outside; talking, laughing, and getting to know one another.

By the end of the formal, Gilbert finds them sitting a little too close on the slightly wet-and very cold- grass outside and interrupts them by kneeling in the middle of both of them and wrapping his arms around their shoulders.

* * *

Three years later, Antonio speaks at Arthur's 26th birthday party; he tells their friends and family of the night of the Winter formal where he met Arthur, the night he met his best friend, and the first time he fell in love with the beautiful, fierce green eyes of his lover of two years.

The same eyes that watched him from the stage and told Antonio more than any words could.

* * *

AN: I've been busy, sorry.


	8. Companion

"Toni." Arthur sighs as his cat looks up at him from the floor. "Go eat your food."

The cat looks away, seemingly bored and walks to the kitchen where his owner has placed his bowls full of food and water down for him. It sniffs at the food before looking back up in the direction of the Englishman.

Arthur is no longer paying attention to his cat. Instead he has lied down face-down on the couch. He stays with his face pressed against the cushion until he can no longer take the lack of air and turns his head to the side.

"Toni." He sighs again as he finds the cat staring at him once more. It is too obvious that the cat has not eaten or even had a drink of his water and that is not like him at all. "What's wrong?"

The cat uses the seating edge of the couch to hold itself up and touches one paw to Arthur's cheek, meowing as it does. Arthur blinks, surprised. The act reminds him of his boyfriend's own cheer-up charm. The movement is similar and he swears that, if the cat could speak, 'Fusososo's' would fill the room and reach his ears. As it is, though, meow's would have to do.

Soon laughter passes by his lips and he sits up to bring the cat up onto his lap. "Toni, I'm okay. I promise."

Well, he did miss his boyfriend but now that he remembers how darling his animal companion-a gift from the very man whom he was wanting to have near- can be, Arthur knows he will be okay.

Antonio would be home soon anyway.

* * *

AN: Cute drabble, anyone?


	9. Request

Arthur nearly pouts as he watches Alfred move to sit at a two-person table with a classmate named Abel. It was completely unfair to have a teacher who decided to arrange the student's seating by first name instead of their surname. Sighing, he looks around as the teacher looks down the list for the alphabetically ordered names. There wasn't another soul in the room that he knew like he knew Alfred. The American was his best friend; he was the one that would help his first year in high school to be a comfortable one.

Now, he'd have to sit beside a stranger who would probably make fun of him.

"Antonio," the Brit leaves his pessimistic thoughts in favour of listening to the teacher speak with a smile when she finally finds the next two names. "and Arthur."

The sudden movement by the back corner of the room catches Arthur's attention. Antonio ends up being a tan boy with messy brown hair and seemingly-always smiling green eyes. His lips, though, are in a slight frown which corners curve upward when emerald eyes meet olive ones. The smile is fake and Arthur can't help but turn away from the other and take his seat at the table.

_'I knew it_,' Arthur thinks to himself, '_he already dislikes me.'_

* * *

Antonio glances at his classmate who has just sat down after having introduced himself as Arthur Kirkland to the classroom. He had spoken with confidence, but his posture spoke otherwise. The blonde looked tense sitting beside him, and this made Antonio frown to himself. He hadn't done anyting wrong had he? Yes, he wasn't happy that he couldn't sit with his friends but he had smiled at Arthur.

He'd given him the same happy- though not so real, but no one could tell the difference- smile he gave everyone to hide his annoyance.

Suddenly, Arthur turns to look at Antonio causing the Spaniard to forget all coherent thoughts and stare into the Briton's green eyes.

"Are you okay?" Antonio questions after claiming his awareness back once Arthur blinks. "You act as if you're surrounded by danger." He chuckles, faking a smile once more and Arthur scoffs.

"I can't trust you when all you do is give me those fake smiles of yours. Don't pretend you're okay with sitting beside me when you're not."

"..Que?" Antonio's smile is wiped off his face by Arthur's words. Fake smile? He knew? But no one could tell when he wasn't happy! Everyone only assumed that he was always happy or simply oblivious when the truth was there was more to him than happiness or blissful ignorance.

Before Arthur answers, the bell signaling the end of class sounds throughout the school and Arthur is out the door before Antonio can put his books away.

But that wouldn't do.

Antonio cradles his books in one arm and book-bag in the other as he pushes past his classmates to follow the blonde, green-eyed, bushy-browed boy that was leaving with a bad impression of him.

He'd never meant to hurt anyone, especially not someone who could apparently see who he really was just be glancing at him.

Antonio reaches Arthur outside in the back of the school-he thanks his physical ability for no one was too fast for him- and calls out to him, dropping the things in his arms to the ground so that he could reach out to the other if he ran away.

"I don't hate having you beside me." Antonio breathes, "I don't even know who you are."

Arthur stares, a faint blush starting to form on his cheeks from embarrassment of having jumped to conclusions and before he can accuse the other of lying, Antonio continues.

"Besides, it's you who sat as still as a tree during the whole time as if I was going to attack you if you moved."

"You gave me a fake smile." Arthur replies with nothing else as if his words are the answer to everything.

"I'm sorry." Antonio sighs, not liking how Arthur has looked away from him. "I didn't mean to, it's a force of habit."

"Habit?" Arthur looks back into the other's eyes, raising an eyebrow as he does. "How in the world can that be a habit?"

Antonio chuckles and for the first time out of many to come, smiles a genuine smile in Arthur's direction.

"How about we go have lunch together and get to know each other?"

Arthur, as shy as he felt in the beginning, can't help but be drawn in to the warm, real smile and the shining eyes of the Spaniard.

"Alright."

* * *

**AN**: Request by FlyingMintBunny2.  
I attempted as best I could with what was given to me. If this isn't to you're liking (and I understand if it isn't) you can request something different and with more details, maybe?  
I also like to think that Arthur is the one that understands Antonio the most  
And, of course, that Arthur's eyes are beyond beautiful.


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